


Walking with Ghosts

by Mytha



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Ghosts, Grief, Pre-Relationship, casual consumption of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-24 00:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17694071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mytha/pseuds/Mytha
Summary: Hawke is not afraid of ghosts, but they haunt her.





	Walking with Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butterpanic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterpanic/gifts).



Hawke is not afraid of ghosts, but they haunt her.

Her father, her brother, her sister, the occasional face from Lothering – and now her mother.

She is not afraid of ghosts, but she cannot sleep. 

When night falls, when she is alone in the vast rooms of her Hightown estate, vast, vaulted ceilings breed darkness, breed ghosts. 

It was not so bad when her mother was still with her – but now, now it is only her and the ghosts that shape themselves out of the mist of her memories. Sometimes they are brief visitors, glimpsed in shadows, memories of happier days. Some nights they bring pain. Her father's cough in the next room, sickly on his deathbed. Carver's broken body, mangled by the darkspawn ogre, moving unnaturally. Bethany's blight-veined face. Worst of all, the creature that wore her mother's head, shaped by the mad mage that killed her, eyes eyrie-silver with half-unseeing death imploring her to end her suffering. 

In her canopied bed Hawke is safe – but she cannot sleep. Safe - but always cold.

During the day she feels lost, like she is moving through a dream. She falls asleep where she stands – often leaning against a wall when she waits around for Aveline to conclude whatever guard business she has to attend to. She knows she is safe there, in the midst of so much life. 

“Hawke,” Aveline says softly after having roused her and beckoned her into her office. “We haven't spoken about Leandra. ”

“My mother is dead,” Hawke replies. “I miss her - but I have a smile on my face. Should be enough for most people.”

Aveline shakes her head. “Not for me. How are you? Truly?”

There is always tea in the barracks. Strong stuff, brewed to keep you awake – bitter and yet too-sweet with honey. Aveline makes Hawke drink a cup of it while she talks about her own family, Wesley. The loss she still feels. 

Hawke does not want to leave, does not want to return to the cold comfort of her own house alone. Aveline is a bullwark against what haunts her. Resolutely alive she makes Hawke feel less unmoored from what is real. 

“Drink?” Hawke eventually suggests. “When you get off – at my place?”

When she returns home that night Aveline is already there. They sit in front of the fire and slowly empty a bottle of surprisingly drinkable wine Hawke has liberated from the cavernous bowels of the Amell mansion. 

“I cannot sleep. I have not slept – here,” Hawke admits and indicates the dusty walls around her. “Since my mother died – when it is dark, when I am alone – I see her, them.” 

“You do not have to stay here, you know.” Aveline watches her closely. 

Hawke sighs. “I know, but mother fought so hard to get this place back for our family. We fought for her. It meant so much to her. And I – I also remember how it was for a while, when we got it back. She had had so much loss in her life – but she got this back for our family, for me.”

“Your choice.” 

Aveline's hand is on her arm and Hawke feels braver than she did moments before. “Can you stay?” Hawke asks. 

If Aveline is surprised by her request she does not show it. She nods – and when they have tidied up and put out the fire, Aveline follows Hawke to her bedroom. 

There are ghosts in this house, but they no longer haunt her. 

Warmth is all around her - protects her. Aveline’s strong arms are wards to keep her safe.


End file.
